Timeless Insights from a Father
by virtualailee
Summary: A collection of advices passed from a generation to the next in the Ishida... and every other normal family. Some are learnt the hard way, some are learnt through bedtime stories. Young or old, we still learn something new each day.
1. Chapter 1

A silver spoon filled with some kind of yellowish goo was inserted bravely into a mouth. The bottom lip was quivering obviously though.

Gulp.

TANG!

"Dear God!"

With a drop of the spoon on the plate, the man clamped a napkin over his mouth and spat silently into the fabric. He wiped his tongue clean as he rid his oral cavity from the awful taste. He almost gagged but decided against it to reserve some face for his apparently appalled wife. His only child who was sitting on the chair on both knees was already laughing openly.

The child rested his elbows on the dining table.

"How was that, Dad?"

Ryūken crumpled his forehead and stared incredulously at the boy's direction, earning yet another giggle from him.

"Ne, dear, how was that?" the slender lady asked timidly from across the table. The man did not reply. He knew his reaction was answers enough. And he mentally scolded himself for being so crude about her cooking. But really, this _torture _had got to stop.

She sighed dramatically to herself.

"I thought the dish was perfect."

_WHAT? PERFECT?_

"Eh, you know, you don't really have to slave yourself in the kitchen," Ryūken interjected hastily. He must discourage her from continuing this life damaging hobby of hers. "There are shops down the streets. And – and stalls and they sell a wide variety of food –"

"YOSH!"

Ryūken flinched at her sudden outburst. His wife tugged her apron free from her neck and balled it tightly with her fist before her set of fiery eyes. She seemed to be all geared up for another round of unearthly experiment in front of the kitchen counter.

"YOSH!" she repeated vigorously. "I am so going to come up with the greatest original invention from the Ishida's kitchen! This will be called SOUL FOOD! Just wait for Mom's most delicious cooking ever, Uryū!"

She glided towards the kitchen, humming random melody from the chorus of "Sugar Pie Honey Bun".

Ryūken exhaled wearily.

"Can you believe that, Ur –"

A little finger came out of no where and jabbed lightly into the tip of his nose as if it was an elevator's button.

"What was that for?" Ryūken asked sulkily, rubbing his nose with his index finger.

"Mom said," the boy stood on the chair and placed a foot on the table. He clenched his fist and punched in the air twice. "THIS IS SOUL FOOD! WAIT FOR IT, URYŪ!"

He got off the table at his father's raised eye brow.

"I've passed my 'turn' to you, Dad! You have to eat for me when Mom's done cooking! G'night!"

With that, he ran off to the stairs, not wanting to stay in the vicinity so his father would not have the opportunity of returning the 'turn' back to him.

Ryūken prodded his glasses up his nose.

_Why is it always me?_

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About a month later, when it was near autumn, Ryūken was seen muttering a flow of curses as he took off his shoes at the door. Apparently his detour to the construction site (a famous franchise was rumoured to be setting another branch there) turned out foully, literally.

"Welcome back, Dad!"

Ryūken stemmed his swearing.

"Hello, Ur –"

"Eww… what's that smell…"

The boy pinched his nostrils and instinctively searched his father's body as though it was emitting the terrible stench.

"Dog crap!"

The boy zipped three paces back, one hand still firm on his nose and the other sprawled like a web by his side. Ryūken ditched the contaminated shoes to a corner and entered the hall (his son was still positively adamant in remaining two meters away).

"That's not very nice, Uryū," Ryūken said as he loosened the knot of his tie, "It's dog dropping, not crap. Where do you learn such a word anyway?"

The child relaxed his grip on his nose.

"Not only that, Dad! I've learnt new words from you when you were mumbling stuff just now! Like shitbag and assh –"

Ryūken clasped a palm hurriedly over his young son's mouth.

_She's going to kill me for this._

"So, I'll be looking forward to this! I know I'm enjoying it a lot!"

"The pleasure's all mine!"

"I'll see you sometime soon."

"Sure! Good bye!"

The voices erupted suddenly from the corner. They belonged to a woman whom he knew was his wife and another unknown male. When the owner of that masculine tone emerged, he found himself quickly appraising the man from almost about every aspect.

_Good looking, young, tanned… what's he doing in my house?_

The man returned the glance and both appeared to be exchanging unspoken words only the male species are capable of doing.

_What are you doing in my house?_

_Mind your own business, oyaji._

_Hands of my wife, punk._

_Hn, may the best man win, then._

"Welcome back, dear. How's work?"

Ryūken turned his attention back to his all smiling love of his life. Sounding somewhat hurt, he asked, "Who's the guy?"

To this, she chuckled lightly.

"Ooh, that's a secret, isn't it?"

Uryū tore his father's hand from his lips and shouted grudgingly at everyone present.

"Dad, you stink!"

A muffled chortle was turned professionally into a cough from the stranger. Sensing hostility, he walked away without even bothering buckling his shoes.

Ryūken's pride had never reached below water's freezing point as of today.

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A fortnight later, the high profile "A1" bakery shop in the Ishida's residence area was officially opened. There was a long queue since noon and Ryūken had to stand under the blazing sun for two hours for a simple box of cheesecake. But he felt it was all worth it when the cake was sitting happily on the rear seat as he drove back home that afternoon.

"I'm back!" he announced his return brightly.

"Dad!"

Little feet were heard jogging through the hall to the main door. Uryū smiled at the sight of his father and his grin grew broader at the sight of the cake.

"Shh…"

The boy was only _seconds_ from yelling "DAD BOUGHT CAKE!" to the whole household.

"Don't tell Mom about this," Ryūken whispered to his son. "At least we won't have to starve ourselves when we deny Mom's dinner tonight."

The boy nodded.

"Yeah, I saw chocolate sauce and wasabi in the same basket on the counter. Not sure what Mom wants to cook tonight."

"Well, just so you know Uryū, chocolate and wasabi don't mix."

A piece of paper was shoved briskly under his nose.

Ryūken, slightly taken aback by this, traced the hand holding it to its wielder – his wife was just about to blow to bits with suppressed excitement. He took the paper from her and scrutinised it, only to have his eyes widened at the zeros scrabbled on a corner of the cheque.

"Ten thousand? _Ten thousand?_"

"YES! Isn't this GREAT?"

"GREAT?" Ryūken groaned. "Honey, how severe is the poor fellow's condition?"

She blinked in confusion.

"Whose condition, Ryūken?"

"The poor neighbour who sampled your food. How critical is his condition – ow!"

He nursed the arm which was just slapped indignantly by his wife. He put his briefcase down and handed the cake to Uryū before planting a kiss on her cheek.

"All right, I'm sorry. So who gave you ten thousand for something I'm sure you haven't done?"

That cheekiness merited him another slap to his other arm.

"I sold my original recipe to 'A1' bakery and they offered ten thousand US dollar for it! Isn't it great dear? I've heard they started baking the cheesecake and it's sold in the new bakery shop down the street –"

Ryūken turned swiftly to his son… and to the box of cake in the little one's hand.

His wife turned to her husband, then followed his eyes to their son, and apparently to the box of cake in the little one's hand.

Their brows disappeared behind fringes.

_I just spent half of my wallet's content and a barrel of sweat for my wife's CAKE?_

Uryū who had already dipped his forefinger into the cream can only comment, "Mom's improving."

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Advice #1: Never laugh at anyone's dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dad?"

Ryūken shifted his eyes from the minuscule writings of "bypass and its complications are numerous" to look up at the young boy. The child was holding a notebook to his chest. And he was grinning hopefully at his father.

"What now, Uryū? Go bother your Mom. I'm busy at the moment."

"But sensei asked us to ask Dads. Mom isn't Dad so I have to ask –"

"All right, I get it," he said resignedly, holding a hand up to stop his son's rambling. "What is it that you want?"

"Sensei asked us to research how Mom and Dad's relationship begins. She wants to know from Dad's point of view, so I must ask you for this assignment!"

"But you're only five!" Ryūken blurted with disbelief. "Why do you have to know about this?"

_Nosy-sensei._

"Dunno," the boy answered truthfully. "So, let's begin!"

And with that, he took a pencil out from his trousers' back pocket. Ryūken eyed the extraordinarily pointed vertex of the carbon lead with distrust.

"Uryū," he started, "did you put that pencil in your back pocket?"

"Eh?" the child studied his pencil with mild interest, "Ah, my friends said if you put it there, people won't dare to steal it."

"Well nobody would want it once it's halfway in your buttocks. Don't put any sharp objects there, you hear me?"

Uryū sighed.

"Yes, Dad."

"Good."

The older man closed his book and turned to his awaiting child. He needed some time to refresh memories for this purpose. It should take him back to when he was a young bachelor, naïve and all…

If he was not mistaken, it went like this:

"_Yo Ishida, loosen up for your sake! This is happy hour! Happy hour! You don't look happy!"_

_The dark haired companion giggled._

_Ryūken flicked a doleful eye around the district's pub. He merely brought the tip of his bottle to his lips and drank quietly in comparison to the other occupant of the same table who was beginning to wink – stupidly, if he might add – at the waitresses._

"_Kurosaki, tone it down. You're not forgetting your identity, are you?"_

"_Tsk," Kurosaki Isshin faced his companion again, "Come on, doctors are human too! We are entitled to some fun after finishing housemanship! Honestly, if you keep that ridiculous face of yours, you're not going to get laid."_

_Ryūken snorted._

"_How do I look like to you?"_

"_You look like you're constipating."_

"_Bite me."_

_Isshin gaped, clearly appalled as if he was just dealt with something so outrageous eyeball to eyeball. His eyes were somewhat glazed and this disturbed Ryūken. _

"_Hey Kurosaki, I was joking, man! If that offended you in –" _

"_HOLLY COW! Look at those pretty posteriors!"_

_Ryūken slapped his forehead with a magnificent "smack!"_

_The hours rolled by and both drained their beverages without much exchange of words. Both had their eyes on different corners of the pub – Ryūken was looking East while Isshin was fixated by South. When the music dimmed and the lights brightened to signify the closing of the venue, both young doctors ambled to East and South._

_Fifteen minutes later, both met up at the entrance with satisfying grins._

"_Yo, fixed your malfunctioning digestive system?"_

"_Hn."_

_Isshin clapped his friend's shoulder enthusiastically before chuckling mightily. _

"_She's great, Ishida! Turns out she works part time here at night since her brother owns this pub! She works with a modeling agency by day, although she's not a model herself. She seriously has the making of one!"_

"_Kurosaki, she has orange hair."_

"_Tsk, what is there in hair colour? She's perfect!"_

"Then how about you Dad?"

Ryūken scratched his temple. He smiled.

"I'm not bad myself."

"_You have crumbs on your chin, Ishida."_

_Ryūken proceeded to wiping his mouth with a paper napkin. On it, a set of cell phone number was scribbled clearly._

"Eh, that's it?"

The older one ruffled his son's head affectionately before getting up. "What's wrong with my story?"

"Nothing," came the reply, "But sensei said Dads' stories will always be short. Moms' stories will be full of surprises and magic!"

"Is that so?"

"The thing is Dad, if Moms and Dads are supposed to share same stories, how come they tell them differently?"

Ryūken exhaled contentedly.

"Well, that's because Dads are cavemen who live under a coconut shell and Moms are fairies in Wonderland."

With a small "oh!" the boy started writing on his notepad.

"Don't include that Uryū. I was joking."

The boy scratched everything with a line.

"How does it end, Dad?"

He tittered. "You."

"Eh? This time, is it a joke or not?"

Ryūken shook his head, amused by his son's untainted innocence. But the next few words uttered by the child terrorized him.

"This love relationship between Mom and Dad ends with the birth of… _me._"

Not only it sounded extremely bad, people could decipher it from different perspectives. To him, it seemed as though he had lost all love for his wife after they had Uryū.

And this would successfully give birth to a wondrous typhoon under his roof.

"No, no, no! Don't phrase it like that! Let me have a look!"

Ryūken made for the notebook but the boy held it out of his father's reach.

"No Dad! Let go! I want to do this by my –"

"Uryū, let me have a peek –"

"MOM! DAD'S PICKING ON ME!"

_I'm toast._

Light footsteps echoed in the hallway and soon, a lady with apron covering her front stood frowning at the door frame. There was a porcelain dish in her left hand and a cloth in her right.

"What's the matter with you boys? Dear, shouldn't you be resting after your on-call – eh, what's that?"

Her eyes traveled to the notebook in her son's grasp. Ryūken, whose fingers were inches from the tactless paragraph written by the boy, retracted his arm and started inching for the door.

"An essay? Wonderful, Uryū! Let me see what you've produced –"

Her eyes bulged and a vein throbbed threateningly at her temple.

"What the – love relationship ends with the birth of – LOVE RELATIONSHIP _ENDS_ WITH THE BIRTH OF –"

She thrust the book back at Uryū with such force that the child was almost knocked backwards a few steps.

"ISHIDA RYŪKEN!"

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Advice #2: Believe in love at first sight.


	3. Chapter 3

He hated funfairs.

Uryū loved funfairs.

"Dad, there's a funfair in town! Can we go there this weekend?"

_No._

"Dear, take him there. I heard the famous Clowns 'R Us would be there this Sunday."

_Can I still say no?_

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Like every other ridiculous funfair, this one was full of colours which made his eyes blur and noises which made him pray he was deaf. Ryūken silently wished he was back at home in front of his medical journal with a glass of cold, ice tea.

"Dad, where do you want to go first?"

Ryūken scratched his head. He seriously had no idea where to go save for back home.

"Ah, I don't know Uryū. Where do you want to go first?"

"Um… I don't know. Everything looks amazing!"

Ryūken checked his watch. He had four long hours to torture himself and to hang out with this miniature drunkard. Apparently, as he was busy gazing at the time, the boy had already seized his father by the wrist and was dragging him to somewhere in the middle of the crowd.

"Be patient! Where are you taking – ah…"

The man had to tilt his head up to take in the full view of the _gigantic _roller coaster track. "Roll-Your Coaster", as the management had named it, had loops which went round and round at least thrice and extremely sharp bends a short way _after_ the loops. When the course was straight, it dived downwards like a pit.

This was not meant for humans' entertainment.

"Uryū, do you really want to get on that… _thing_?"

"It looks fun. Don't you want to come with me, Dad?"

"Ah…"

Ryūken blinked at the trolleys. The next ride was approaching. Before he had time to reject his son's request, the little form had already pushed their way to the front line. When he tried to pull back into the back rows, Uryū relinquished his grip on his father and stepped into the seats. Since there was no way he would leave his son flailing his arms in the trolleys alone, Ryūken took a place reluctantly.

"Uryū, can we take the front most seats?"

"Eh… why?"

"Because –"

He stopped talking as two ladies with long, blond hair assumed two seats in front of them. Ryūken shut his mouth and shook his head, warning the boy not to continue their subject of conversation.

The brakes lifted and the trolleys were in motion. Soon, light engulfed "Roll-Your Coaster" as they moved out of the tunnel.

Ryūken hated roller coasters.

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Twenty minutes later, a father – slightly bluish in the face – and his son trotted out of the premise into a corner. The man bent over the railings and clasped a hand over his mouth. Back when they were zooming down the tracks, he felt his stomach leaving its place and his bottom hovering above his cushion. When he thought everything would be better after the first loop, the front seated lady's hair just slapped him point blank in the face. And with each turn, the locks hit him hard at different angles.

"Dad, bumper cars!"

"Yeah, bumper – WHAT?"

He heard loud music bordering on cats' meowing as though they were scalded. Then he heard "CRASH!" and "BOOM!" and a cluster of teenagers howling exhilaratingly.

"Uryū, can we go somewhere _civilized_?"

The child was not listening. He was walking towards the din. Ryūken groaned and trailed the boy light headedly.

Ryūken hated bumper cars too because they gave him the carsick.

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CRASH!

BANG!

DUM!

"Oi, watch it you!"

Nobody was listening to Ryūken. Uryū was the pinion rider and he was taking charge of the steering. The thing was, youths were purposely charging into his way for no apparent reasons at all! And he had a shrewd suspicion that half of a dozen kids there was acquaintances; when he was revolving peacefully in the middle, minding his own business, two cars blocked his path ahead while another sneaky one rammed hard into his back.

And wherever he went, the three cars would be hot on his tail.

"Oyaji, you can do better than that!"

Ryūken had had enough and took a sharp turn, pulling over beside a pillar. As the "put put put put" drone of the engine reverberated from his position, Ryūken crossed his arms and watched the scene of chaos.

The teenagers were also stationary but they were looking at somewhere above his head.

Ryūken looked up only to see the stall owner looking down at him, his brow cocked in an awkward slant. Unknown to him, he had just parked his car beside the "Bumper Rides!" manager.

"Do you want to play or not, ossan?"

"I don't _play –_"

"Yeah we do! Dad, move over!"

Uryū clambered over his father and sat on his laps, taking the wheels with two little hands. The teenagers scampered away and went to chase new preys instead.

Uryū was not as forgiving.

BANG!

CRASH!

DUM!

The child slammed into their cars time after time, first seeking out the ones who blocked his father's way before targeting the guy who kept knocking into his car. With each vicious collision, sparks erupted from the tip of an antenna fixed to the car.

Two more bangs.

Two more sparks.

Sparks excite Uryū a lot… or at least it seemed so to Ryūken.

The man was seeing lots of sparks too – in and above his head.

Finally, at long last, the music subsided and "Bumper Rides!" customers whom Ryūken did not want to meet on actual road ambled out of the court. Thank goodness, it was just about time for them to skip home. This would mean no more fourth go on the "Roll-Ur Coaster" and cavities on sticks – lollipops.

After buying one last cotton candy from a clown with green streaks running down the cheeks from his eyes, Ryūken began to make his way to the car park where he could rid himself from the entire "bad chi" surrounding him.

_I can't believe I just wasted my whole afternoon for this._

That was when all air was knocked out of his lungs as someone crashed unexpectedly into him, wrapping two arms around his waist.

Uryū was giving Ryūken a kiddy bear hug.

"Thanks Dad. This is the best afternoon ever!"

His father opened his mouth for a word, but closed it rather quickly and broke into a gentle smile.

"Yeah, best afternoon ever," and he patted the top of his son's head fondly.

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Advice #3: Remember that no time spent with your children is ever wasted.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a Saturday and the Ishida was planning to spend the weekend at the mountain sides. They had to get there early in the morning so they started out from home at night. And after weeks of careful preparation, all three family members huddled into the sedan and sped off on the boulevard.

Two hours later…

"This looks like a scene from a movie, Dad…"

Indeed.

The stretch of street lamps were not functioning and Ryūken had to rely on the vehicle's headlights. There were no other passing cars so they were pretty much stranded in between masses of old forests. No signboards to follow, no police to ask…

"I _told _you to pack the map, but _no… _a man can handle _easy _roads like this!"

… No maps to look into…

"Oh no," Ryūken glanced once at the petrol gauge, "we'll have to stop for petrol."

"Where in the world can you find a petrol station?"

"I don't know… somewhere…"

"This _is_ somewhere! You don't know where we are!"

"Dad, there's a building there!"

The trees were thinning on their right hand side. Through the layers of foliages, Ryūken spotted a wide board with red, fluorescent alphabets forming the word "VACANCY". Without another thought, he swerved right and entered the motel's courtyard.

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"Tell me _why_, again, did you pay for two rooms, _dear_?"

Ryūken laughed uncertainly. He had wanted some privacy with his wife. Hence, he intentionally took another chamber for their child. That little one could play or do whatever miniatures do in a room alone and for as far he was concerned, they would have their hands free of Uryū for one, blissful night.

HA CHOO!

A drenched figure traipsed into the motel's room, his bangs dripping with water. His mother hurried over and dried him off with a towel, leaving his father wondering when it started raining.

"Went to take my aeroplane from the car – ha choo! – turned out Dad had locked the car – then it rained – 'choo!"

"You better change into some dry clothes, Uryū," said his mother as she tossed the damp towel on the bed, "I'll get you the –"

She rummaged around the luggage before straightening up crossly.

"I'd forgotten to pack my hair dryer."

"Why do you need a _hair dryer_ for? We're supposed to be picking _mushrooms_!"

They went into bathroom in search for that particular device while Uryū was left alone, wet. He strode over to his bag pack, took out a set of pajamas, stripped down his soaking shirt and pants, wriggled out of his underwear when –

"HOI! GET AWAY FROM MY SON!"

There was a swift passing of a shadow at the window and the next thing Uryū knew, his mother had wrapped a warm, fluffy towel around his naked body. Ryūken charged out of the door but halted when he went two steps further; he did not want to abandon his family at the moment for the sneak. Instead, he drew the drapes shut only to discover them jammed stuck by the rust.

His mother was hugging and ironing his back, cooing soothingly into his ears. And of course, Uryū looked just as perplexed as his parents.

"Did that man hurt you Uryū?" asked his father as he knelt in front of the small frame.

"What had happened?" asked the boy, frowning.

"I can't believe a pedophile just harassed my Uryū with his eyes!" his mother sobbed over his shoulder.

This was a dangerous place. If he had to, Ryūken was going to stand sentry all night to keep his son in his sight for the rest of the night.

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"Uryū, why don't you go play pinball next door?"

"Okay!"

"Are you MAD, Ryūken?"

The door opened and shut again behind their young son. Ryūken turned his back to the entrance and fixed a very misty gaze upon his wife.

"We've never been alone for such a long time, have we?"

He approached the one and only lady he swore to love and marry as that lady soften her fierce visage.

"Don't you worry about Uryū's safety? I mean –"

"It's only next door. There's a security guard there. I've checked."

"Then um…"

Ryūken had closed what little distance there was between them.

"Um… I'd better go to Uryū's room. Don't want him to be lonely when he comes –"

"Uryū won't be lonely anymore. Uryū's little brother and sister are coming soon."

He snaked his arms around his wife's waist as he leaned closer to her forehead.

"Eh, not like this Ryūken," she said, "the window's not shut!"

For a split second, reality sank and he paused momentarily. Then, he shrugged and smiled dimly. "Whatever," he whispered.

They both stopped breathing. Leaning lower ever so slowly, he carefully studied the lush lips of his wife which he had foolishly deserted for the sake of work, work, work… and now, he was going to kiss his love.

Just centimeters away…

Their lips brushed feather lightly –

"DAD!"

"GEEZ!"

There was a feminine squeak and a rough curse as the door swung open again. Ryūken jumped a meter away from his wife and stared incredulously at his son.

"There you go again, Dad! You haven't told me the meaning of shitba –"

"HELLO, URYŪ!" the older man greeted at the top of his lungs as though this was the first time he had seen the boy.

A hand seized him gruffly by the collar.

"Did you just contaminate our son's young mind with blaspheme dictions?"

"I don't want to sleep at the corridor!" the man blurted thickly.

"Mom, Dad, can I sleep with you tonight? It's raining loudly outside."

With a cheerful "Sure, Uryū," she patted the empty space on the bed next to her, welcoming the child to lie beside. Ryūken on the other hand looked like he _had_ just been sent straight to the corridor.

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Ryūken's morning was not supposed to be greeted like this.

There was a humongous poster depicting _himself _lying stretched on the bed and his wife by his side with her arm on the little form who turned out to be Uryū curled up between the sheets. Below this picture was a flourish "HAPPY FAMILY DAY!"

It made the "VACANCY" board somewhat superfluous to the overcrowding motel.

"Eh, thank you Mr. Ishida!"

The motel manager wrung his hand exuberantly and pushed three wads of papers into Uryū's palm. "See? Your picture made booking and reserving toll soaring high! By organizing Family Day, the business is starting to roll in!"

Ryūken extracted his hand from the manager's oily grasp.

"My family won't be your mascot out of the blue," he said abruptly. The manager chuckled heartily and pointed to the wads of paper he had given to Uryū.

"I'm payin' you. No fuss all right."

All three heads craned to the papers.

"Wow!"

"Dear, they're breakfast vouchers!"

"YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!"

Ignoring two grinning faces and a furious one, the manager droned idly as he surveyed the picture, "I must say, Mr. Ishida, your family sleeps very artistically."

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Advice #4: When traveling, take two big safety pins so you can pin the motel drapes shut.


	5. Chapter 5

_Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle all the way…!_

It was Christmas Eve.

"Right, stay close to me Uryū. Never let go of my hand and tell me if you want to go see something in the window."

"Okay, Dad."

Once again, like every other year, Ryūken had to take his son out for a last minute Christmas shopping in the mall. He thought he had bought presents and hid them under the bed, but only this morning, when he checked the underneath, he had realised he was remembering last year's memory. Under the pretence of buying more neon lights for the Christmas tree, he slipped away under the accusing stare of his wife.

And of course, Uryū wanted to tag along.

"Oh look at that," Ryūken exclaimed, raising a hand to point at the magnificently decorated bookshop for the holy occasion, "They've published the exclusive health journal of the world renowned oncologist, Professor – Uryū?"

He spun at the spot.

"Uryū?"

He had subconsciously let go of his son to point at the book.

"Oh no… no no… Uryū!"

Ryūken charged two stores ahead and stood on his toes, peering at the mass for any signs of his son. Apparently, he was the least bothered of the salesgirl who was standing behind him.

"Good day, sir! For this festive season, we are holding some amazing promotions –"

"Sorry, not interested," Ryūken replied nonchalantly as he cast his eyes even further.

At that, the girl's forehead crinkled and she took a step back. She cleared her throat and put up a fake glittery smile. "Well, you know, we do have promotions on dental floss. We have a pretty wide variety of those, and we also have mouthwash. I assure you they do not contain alcohol –"

"Yeah, me too," Ryūken said offhandedly, his eyes still roaming, and wished "Happy Christmas!" before springing down the walkway.

_Got you, you little elf…_

"Uryū!"

A little boy turned to the voice and smiled brightly. Waving his fair arm, he mouthed, "Santa is here!"

Ryūken almost skidded to a halt right before the large man sporting cotton beard and red attire. Santa was sitting in a large armchair and on his laps, Uryū was making himself comfortable.

The little form folded a piece of fluorescent paper.

"And don't forget to work hard for your wish to come true, m'boy!" rang Santa.

Ryūken raised a brow but did not enquire further. As Uryū got to his feet, the older man held his son by the shoulder.

"What did I told you before, Uryū?"

The boy tucked his paper neatly into his pocket. Ryūken could not help noticing how anxious his son was as his eyes trailed from the blue orbs to the fluorescent piece of… _something fishy._

"What is that?"

"Nothing, it's a Christmas wish."

"Eh?"

Ryūken's anger evaporated like snow on a barbeque grill.

"I'd like to see it!"

Uryū clamped his hand possessively over his pocket. "No, Santa said to keep it to myself!"

"And Dad said to share it with your father. Come on, what's so secretive about your Christmas wish?" Ryūken jokingly pried his son's clenched fist. "Wait, it doesn't involve a one month visit to Disneyland or Ultraman Nexus as your babysitter or sewing machine as your birthday present does it?"

The child shook his head.

"I want to have a peek at it, Uryū!"

"HO HO HO! What is your greatest wish and wants? Want to share it with Santa?"

The Ishida looked up at the merry man still accommodating the squashy armchair.

"Want to sit on my lap, Dad-san?"

"I'm thirty five!"

Santa's smile faltered. He retreated to his seat and face to his left, taking in a couple of deep inhales.

Ryūken returned his attention to the child. "For running away on me, _you_ won't be doing any walking today, Rudolph."

"Eh? EH, PUT ME DOWN!"

Ryūken hoisted his son above his shoulder, safely depositing the not-so-complying boy in a sitting position with the legs dangling over his chest. For fear of tumbling down despite the fact that his father was securing him by the ankle, Uryū rested two little palms on Ryūken's head.

"Don't drum on my head, Uryū."

They walked on for another three minutes.

"Say, now that I'm already carrying you," Ryūken was going to play on his son's kiddy cravings, "and planning to buy you a chocolate mint ice-cream–"

"You ARE?" 

"I will, _if _you let me see your Christmas wish."

"Sure!"

_Eureka._

The weight on his shoulder shifted someone as Uryū tugged the fluorescent paper from his back pocket. Grinning, the older man readjusted his focus when the paper was thrust before his very eyes.

_Finally!_

"Here!"

And sheer darkness caved in. There was a mild commotion everywhere and nobody moved for a fraction.

"Uh oh, blackout, Dad."

Ryūken gaped incredulously as the paper was stowed back into the pocket.

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"Can I go to the toilet?"

"Can't it wait?"

Ryūken had trouble maneuvering since he only came here annually. Minus the fact that everyone's vision was hampered due to the sudden darkness, he had only the roughest idea where the main entrance was located.

"Dad, I seriously need to go. Or do you want to me to ease myself –"

"Don't even think about it."

He lowered his son and held him tightly by the wrist. And by chance, they stumbled across a very congested washroom by the boutique. Uryū did not seem to mind the long wait so he let his son joined the queue. After all, it was better this way than to walk around with urinated shoulders.

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Somehow, after fifteen minutes, the boy did not return to his panicked father.

"Tsk, Uryū, what is taking you so long?"

He entered the gents and called for his son. Unfortunately, after several jostling with strangers standing over the urinary pot, he gave up and exited with a furiously palpitating heart.

_Why can't they ever listen to their parents?_

"Uryū!"

Amidst the confusion, someone bumped into his shoulder. The apology died in his throat when he heard the women whispering.

"… _Said a child had fallen from this floor's balcony onto the stage… trying to look for somebody I guess…"_

Ryūken froze.

"Oh God."

He ran to the balcony, praying to the Lords that his son was spared the terrible accident.

"Uryū!" he yelled desperately.

And he was soon joined by "Kurenai!" and "Rei!" and "Takao!" and other names which presumably belonged to adjacent parents' little girls and boys. So it was no use. There was no way anyone would hear him. He suddenly scorned darkness. If it was bright, he would go down and look at the body himself.

"Dad?"

A warm albeit slightly damp hand closed around Ryūken's long pants.

"Wha – Uryū?"

"Gee, I've only been missing for a –"

"Uryū!"

Ryūken pulled the boy into a tight hug, so tight and warm that it took the boy by surprise.

"Dad, are you okay?"

"Are _you_ okay?" he distanced himself from the boy a bit, "And how did you manage to find me? You couldn't have heard –"

A gloomy perspective dawned upon him. He was never expecting this to happen on this day.

"Uh, Uryū, answer this truthfully. Did you… _felt_ any… _pulsations _from me or something which directed you to me?"

The child scratched his head.

"Nope."

Ryūken sighed gratefully.

"It's just that all I have to do is to follow your bad breath."

_Damn…_

"Call the security! CALL THE SECURITY! THAT MAY BE MY DAUGHTER DOWN THERE!"

Uryū leaned in and muttered to his father.

"Can we leave now? It isn't a girl down there. I accidentally knocked into a miniature Santa on the way to the ice-cream parlour and it sort of um, fell over the balcony."

Ryūken's brows furrowed.

"And why on earth would you have the reason to go to the ice-cream parlour after toilet?"

Uryū shrugged.

"You said you would buy me an ice-cream."

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Advice #5: Accept a breath mint if someone offers you one.


	6. Chapter 6

"NO!"

"Don't – move – so – tsk, Uryū!"

"AAA!"

Uryū had to extract a tooth. His permanent one was visible and he told his mother of this. Naturally, she related this to her husband and then, here they were, running around in circles in the fortunately obstacle-free living room.

Of course, Ryūken was the one energetic enough to chase his son about; his wife was calmly cutting wedges of potatoes on the kitchen's counter.

"Would you keep it down, dear? The neighbour is starting to peek into our direction!"

"It's – not – me – who's – screaming – Uryū, get back here this instant!"

The child was already out of sight.

Ryūken rolled up his sleeves and tossed his undone necktie aside. He calmly thought of places a kid would most probably choose to hide and the first location which came to mind was his bedroom. So, the doctor walked as silently as he could to the porch, barefooted, and crouched down by his car.

See, being his father, Ryūken knew that his son would never want to conceal his presence in crooks which other people deem as normal.

The boy was really lying flat on his front exactly below his father's sedan.

"Seriously…"

Wiping sweat from his forehead, the older man extended an arm and started prodding the horizontal form with an inflated hammer which he had bought for the child at a fun fair. Who knows plastic hammer filled with air can be so practical?

"Come out, you little elf!" Ryūken called as the hammer nuzzled the boy's rear.

"NO!"

With that last shout, Uryū crept farther away from his father and pulled his small figure into open air again.

"Finally!"

But everything was far from over. The boy was wobbling straight towards the tree in the garden and much to Ryūken's dismay, he was making his way up to the topmost branch. Worry not though; there is always a remedy for obstinate little children.

The buzzing racket of rusty engine revved in the lawn.

"Get down immediately or I'm going to –" Ryūken tugged more forcefully at the starter of his chainsaw, "make you, Uryū!"

_Maybe the chainsaw is too much…_

"Ryūken, are you MAD?"

_Told you it's too much…_

His young wife stormed into the garden, her hand gripping her waist and Ryūken mused that if she could spout steam over her head, she would resemble a very lean teapot nicely.

"I told you to take him to the dentist, not the mortuary!"

Hop! Hop!

Two tiny feet trampled the lush carpet of grass of the Ishida residence. Fixing her unwavering stare at her guilty-looking husband, she reached an arm out and seized the very first solid matter which came into her grasp.

"Lemme go!"

She thrust the thrashing child into her husband's arms.

"See? What's the fuss?"

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"Ah, you do need an extraction – no, no, it'll be completely painless, I assure you – no, I'll apply some anesthesia to your gum – Nurse, could you please hold him down for a min – stop moving, boy, you're going to hurt yourse – Nurse, some help please?"

_For the love of God, why do the difficult ones always end up in my clinic?_

Ryūken closed his hands around Uryū's forearms while the nurse held his legs down fast.

Uryū shook as if Karakura had been hit by a 9.0 Richter scale's earthquake.

The doctor sighed. "Ishida-san, maybe you can join your son as well to pacify his anxiousness?"

_Yes, then I'll get a quiet boy and another client as well._

"You just have to register for a check-up, that's all."

"What? Err… I don't think that's really necessary, doctor."

_But I hate dentists…_

"Lemme go! Lemme go!"

Ryūken half-heartedly wished it was his wife who was here, not him.

"Okay, doctor…"

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"Why the long look, dear?"

She took a seat on the sofa opposite of her family, scrutinizing their features while trying very hard to maintain a straight face. Ryūken was cradling his jaw with the back of his palm – his free hand holding a large sachet of ice to his cheek – and Uryū was sitting exactly like his father that he seemed to be a three-dimensional copy of Ryūken, albeit a lot youngish-like.

He too, was pressing a bag of ice onto his cheek.

"I'm surprised, Ryūken. I thought you were only bringing Uryū to the doctor and not see one yourself."

"I neenent ask for 'nis…"

Apparently one of his wisdom teeth was terribly decayed but since the cavity had yet to reach the nerves, Ryūken could still enjoy ice-cream like there were no holes in his enamel.

"Nad, n'you nink nat Gwenfaner will come soon?"

"Nink so, ne said ne will come –"

And she rolled her eyes in frustrations. "Men. You can just talk with a mouth full of cotton and a gaping hole in the gum, can't you?"

Ding dong!

"I'll get it."

Although it was already nine at night, Sōken had just rang over to see if he could visit his only grandson who had just had his tooth pulled out by the dentist. Much to the child's delight, he agreed to apply ice to his swollen cheek just so his grandfather would not see him puffy in the face.

Naturally, his mother made Ryūken hold an ice pack to his face as well.

"How's my Uryū doing?"

"Gwenfaner!"

Sōken settled a porcelain pot on the coffee table as he assumed a seat beside his daughter-in-law. Casting his gray eyes on his son and grandson, he chuckled a bit at their antics. Well, a father would stay a father.

"How are you feeling, Ryūken?"

He adjusted the packet on his cheek before replying dully, "Splenid."

"Well, I'm sure it won't hurt this much soon. Have some porridge for the time being. Want to have some now?"

"No, Fa'ner."

Even though Ryūken was a father himself, and was a lot more mature than the child he used to be thirty years ago, to Sōken, Ryūken's innocence was definitely indelible.

The old man ruffled his grandson's hair and smiled widely. "You're a brave boy, Uryū."

Then he turned to his son and patted him lightly on his head. "You're adorable too, Ryūken."

If his head could swell any bigger, he was certain it would burst.

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Advice #6: Keep the porch light on until all the family is in for the night.


	7. Chapter 7

"One orange plus five apples…"

"One orange plus five apples…" Uryuu mumbled absent-mindedly as he scratched his head with the butt of his pencil.

"Isn't that just one orange and five apples?" he frowned before he dip his head deeper into his pages to re-read the question again. "Oh, how many fruits there are, six then…" and he scribbled a vague curve which looks like "6" in the box provided.

Quietly, he twisted his neck to look at the door behind him. Since he was doing his homework in the hall, that very door behind him leads to his father's study chamber. From the gap below the plank obscuring his vision from the working man within, he saw light.

"Great!"

Knock! Knock!

The knob clicked and Uryuu slithered right in front of his father, balancing himself on his knees precariously on the revolving chair. Without lifting his head, Ryuuken said, "Stop doing that or you'll break some bones. Sit properly, Uryuu."

And so he did.

"And stop fidgeting in the chair. You turning round and round makes me dizzy."

"You're not even looking at me!"

"Says who?" asked Ryuuken again, challenging his son's allegation though the kid was right; he did not even know the colour of Uryuu's T-shirt. So when he finally drop his pen and scan the awaiting face, he said smoothly without reserve, "You don't have to see everything with your eyes. Not everything is as it is anyway."

Uryuu's eyes glimmered as if something had dawned upon him. "Oh…"

To this, Ryuuken sighed, "Stop faking it, you're not getting what I said are you?"

"Damn right."

"Wash your mouth. Don't use that language with your parents."

"Oh, sorry… ah yes, Dad," Uryuu started, loading his book and pieces of scrap paper on the already overloaded study table, "this is my," he flipped to page fifteen, "homework!"

Ryuuken gave a once over at the numbers and then looked at his son questioningly, "So?"

"So, since they're so easy, I wonder if you can help me do them."

What is wrong with today's generation seriously…?

"Honestly Uryuu, it's your homework and lazy is not an excuse. Do it yourself or I'll be one very angry Dad."

Ryuuken did not shout when he was mad. He would ignore Uryuu completely until the latter realised his mistakes though it had never gone on for more than four hours. And of course, the young one did not enjoy cold treatment; he was so used to his parents' shower of love.

"Fine."

He hopped down the chair (which swiveled annoyingly in front of Ryuuken) and made for the door.

"Where do you think you're going, Uryuu?"

"To my room."

"No no, you'll do it here. Now."

Uryuu trotted back to the table, leaving all thoughts of taking a nap for an hour or two before he proceeded to finishing this absolutely mundane set of questions.

"Why can't I do it in my room?"

"Because I know what you're going to do in your room."

"How do you know?"

"Because if it's me, I'll do the same thing as you're about to do if I'm in my room. Now start working."

Ryuuken kept a fond smile to himself. When he was Uryuu's age, he was quite the insufferable student as well.

--

"Dad?"

"What?"

"Twenty one plus twelve is?"

"Thirty three."

Uryuu gaped.

See, addition between two-digit figures had not been thought in classes, _yet._

"How d'you get that?"

"I just got it."

Uryuu kept quiet and Ryuuken knew he had not answered the question. In fact, he gave a lousy answer. No, lousy was an understatement… The older man stretched and sighed loudly, releasing the tension he was facing as he worked on his paperwork. Uryuu's disturbance was a little bit unwelcome at the beginning, but which father would deny his son of some assistance in Math?

"Say, Uryuu, why didn't you ask Mom in the first place?"

"She says a calculator is not there for display."

Ryuuken groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Pulling the book closer, he peered into the numbers and scrawling ("These unruly wriggles are numbers, Uryuu?") and then flipped back a couple of pages, noticing that such addition was new to the child.

"Okay, this is the working. Write the numbers this way…"

--

What a way to spend half an hour, Ryuuken mused.

When he asked Uryuu how he would answer this question, the kid said without reserve, "Twenty one," and then he extended his fingers in front of him, "twenty two, twenty three…" he counted as he folded a finger one by one.

Cute and creative.

And now Uryuu was asleep with his head on the desk, his arms cushioning himself from the hard surface.

"Heh, sleeping in Math class…" Ryuuken chuckled.

A rather peculiar line on the question page caught his eye. Upon further scrutinizing it, Ryuuken gave an obvious "Ah!" and closed the book.

Uryuu's pen had somehow scratched a mark on the page right beside "2", making it look as if the question was asking, "21 + 12" whereas it should be "2 + 12". How that mistake escaped him in the first place, Ryuuken had no idea himself.

--

"Dear, did you see my – oh ya! What do we have here?"

Uryuu was definitely on the couch though he seemed to be missing in the heap of blanket covering his body; only the top of his coal hair was visible. Ryuuken however was more conspicuous; he was nodding off by the boy, his elbow on the armrest of the sofa, cradling his head as he too was dozing away on the floor.

Snap! Snap!

The very bright flashes of camera snapping away did nothing to arouse them from their siesta. Well, it was all the better for her anyway.

"Don't blame me, dear. Our Facebook needs updating anyway."

And the two drooling males, young and old alike, said nothing.

--

Advice #7: Rehearse a joke before telling it.


	8. Chapter 8

Uryuu's make-some-noise schedule goes like this every day without fail: After coming back from kindergarten at one, he eats lunch and mimics the blender (which is blending his daily fruit juice). At two, he will do homework, and since he is learning on the abacus… at four, he walks around the house, either looking for something interesting to do or to bother his father. Ryuuken usually comes home at three for a quick shower, meal and necessities and of course, just in time for his son's earsplitting, high-pitched "O-KAE-RI!"

Today however, was different.

If this happened occasionally, Ryuuken would have thanked the big guy upstairs for this momentary peace and quiet – but since Uryuu _never _keep quiet unless he'd worn his throat out for talking or screaming too much, the silence somehow bugged Ryuuken. He had patients to tend to in the hospital, papers to sign, pharmacists to deal with… but with Uryuu on the something-is-wrong-with-me file, Ryuuken couldn't help but sigh.

"Uryuu?"

It was easier getting hold of the boy today – he was found sitting quite still on the edge of his bed, fidgeting. Well, there are many reasons why someone would fidget; one could probably be consumed by the utter feeling of guilt, or maybe because the temperature dropped several degrees… or in Uryuu's case, contracted fleas and was now itching all over.

That was until the boy turned to the door very briefly before mopping his sleeves over his face. Brief enough for Ryuuken to see the tears anyway.

"What's wrong?"

Ryuuken supposed five-year-olds cry like dogs in summer; fluid flows from every possible orifice and as if that wasn't enough, a bawling executed at maximum capacity of the lungs must ensue. So to his son's credit, Uryuu actually shed tears like a man.

Atta boy.

Still, he didn't think children should cry. Children should be laughing until they enter their rebellious stage which hopefully, Uryuu would cross without so much of the common teenager-ish "nobody understands my needs" rants.

"Tell me what's wrong, Uryuu."

Ryuuken slid beside the smaller form on the bed and clasped both hands between his thighs. He waited. The boy would speak when he felt like it, and hopefully that'd happen in a couple of minutes or so. Ryuuken still _had _patients to attend to…

"I messed up in school," the boy spoke slowly, wiping at his face again. "Sensei gave us a set of darts today during quiz time. We were supposed to throw them at a bunch of numbered cards on the wall to answer some Math questions."

Ryuuken stopped listening at "darts". That's it – he is marching up the administration first chance in the morning. How could they – _what _were they _thinking, _giving kids _darts _like sweets on Halloween! The last time he checked, darts have sharp, pointy, needle-like ends that can puncture skins! In a kindergarten, puncture eyeballs, more like.

"My team was doing okay, until it was my turn."

Ryuuken was tempted to ask if his son answered "2 + 4 = ?" wrongly but held his tongue. He waited again for Uryuu to continue, and to which he said, "The card I was supposed to hit was beside the window. When I threw the dart, it went through the window – I wish it just went through but it had to hit this paper origami thing by the sill – we did that for Arts – and now he's angry with me because his origami fell into the drain below the window."

"Did you apologise?" Ryuuken asked carefully. No sons of his are uncouth in manners.

Uryuu nodded but his mood didn't exactly improve.

"So what's the problem?"

"He said… he's never going to talk to me. But we've done a lot of stuff together – like swapping snacks, catching hoppers – we even share secrets!"

Children's secrets are always insignificant but they mean the world to the keepers. Ryuuken was entertaining the idea of them secretly drawing graffiti on an inconspicuous wall behind their teacher's back.

"I don't want that," Uryuu whispered, dashing another cascading tear with his soaked fingers.

"Well… things like this happen once in a while. Sometimes, people aren't happy with you… sometimes, you're not happy with them," Ryuuken began with a soft smile. "The important thing is, if you know you're at fault, you apologise. If _they're _at fault and have apologised, you forgive. Of course things don't go as you plan usually…" he added thoughtfully, tapping at his bottom lip with his forefinger.

"I already said I'm sorry!"

"Yeah… but sometimes, that isn't enough as well."

And then, Ryuuken came to a pretty brilliant solution.

"Say Uryuu, what if we give him back what he'd lost? That should worth more." And the boy lighted up positively at his father's suggestion. "You said you knocked his origami out of the window?"

"A crane origami. It's kinda hard to fold though…"

And guess what – Ryuuken was best at folding crane origami. That was because it was the only thing he could do with a paper (minus writing, calculating, doodling… the proper stuff) besides folding a boy-must-know paper planes. But his extremely limited capability in paper arts was best kept untold to his grave, no?

"I'll teach you how to fold it. Then you can give it to him – or maybe even teach him how to fold it."

Ryuuken guessed that kid didn't know how to fold a crane. If he could afford wasting his time not talking to his son instead of folding a second one, Ryuuken was sure it was because the kid wasn't able to.

"Really?"

"Of course," the doctor affirmed, getting to his feet. "You get the papers and scissors and I'll go shut the computer down."

See, that was all it takes to raise a child's spirit. If only adults behave the same way, life would have been so much easier. Ryuuken sighed to the sounds of drawers being pulled and pushed back in and the pitter patter of his son's feet on the second floor, searching for some papers no doubt. Well, things might get back to the usual hectic mode in a couple of hours but was that not what he wanted – a house full of a child's laughter and happiness right up to the brim.

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Advice #8: Don't let a little dispute injure a great friendship.


	9. Chapter 9

"Dad, I've to pee."

"Can't you hold it in for another minute?"

"Dad…"

"Tsk, I'm looking for a toilet okay, be patient."

It was Saturday evening. Like every Saturday evening, Ryuuken makes it a point to bring his son to the neighbourhood park for a walk or a brief jog. The kid needed to start building his stamina, see. And besides that, Uryuu really needed to start manning up – maybe it was too early though, the kid was only five after all. But… why not, eh? Today they jogged around the manmade pond. It wasn't that big a pond but it still took them half an hour when it should be done in fifteen. The reason was simple; Ryuuken was distracted by resident sexy neighbour who was conveniently crouching on the grass looking for her contacts and Uryuu, by butterflies.

They decided to go for another round to make up for the time loss while standing idly (only in Dad's case since the little one _did _run around chasing bugs) until Uryuu decided to squirm and ask for a toilet.

Ryuuken sighed again. He'd been doing that a lot lately. Well, for starters, generally people don't have the sudden urge to pee after sweating so profusely. He glanced again at his son who had the back of his T-shirt drenched. Maybe his son was different… maybe he stored more water in his body than normal human does… like a camel… yeah…

"Dad, found it!"

Uryuu took his father's hand and practically dragged him forcefully to the – to Ryuuken's horror – _extremely_ packed outdoor lavatory. There were already two persons standing outside, no doubt queuing for their turns. That was going to take _hours _before they reach theirs.

Ryuuken tugged again at his son. "Maybe we should go home. You can relief yourself there."

"But I can't wait… it's only for a while!"

Ryuuken looked shiftily again at the crowd. _That,_ a while? Resigned, he took his son to the end of the queue and waited. As expected, time moves exceptionally slow when he was in a rush or in this case, his son seeking relief. Poor kid was already holding his crotch.

"Man… this is taking too long…" Uryuu whined.

But of course. Ryuuken subconsciously averted his attention towards the _other _door – the one leading to the female's – and blinked once when he found the space outside the door to be vacant of people. He half-heartedly wanted to just swing the door open, yell at all the ladies to please hurry up (while keeping his eyes shut real tight) so his son could use one of the cubicles and they'd be on their happy way back to the park. Hopefully still in one piece. If only his wife was here.

"Dad, can I use the other toilet?"

Immediately Ryuuken looked down, away from the female's washroom.

"Eh? What do you mean, the _other _toilet?"

"The one you're gazing at just now. The ladies."

And the couple of men standing in front of them glanced at Ryuuken with raised brows. They only turned away at the doctor's glare – but not without a chuckle.

"You _can't _use the ladies, Uryuu. You're a _boy!_"

"I know that. But Mom brings me in sometimes."

Well that was different wasn't it? None of Ryuuken's body parts resemble a lady's. If his _toe _ever stepped into the threshold of the female's lavatory, the users at that moment would make sure to send the rest of him _out _in a matchbox.

"Mom isn't here. You have to wait patiently for your turn, okay?"

Uryuu sighed – must've picked the habit from his father – and turned his heels. Probably praying he wouldn't wet his pants before his turn.

Fifteen minutes had passed and they were finally just three persons away from the almighty urinating pot. Ryuuken finally regretted not lugging his son over his shoulder and cart him back home. Apparently standing in a small humid room used for urinating and what's-not packed with heavily sweating _men _of all sizes wasn't exactly pleasant. Suddenly he wished he was back in the hospital with all the bleach and disinfectant.

But he was only three persons away. He could take it… _he could take it!_

"Ah damn!"

"No cursing, Uryuu."

"Hmm?"

Ryuuken, annoyed, rapped a knuckle softly on his son's head and repeated, "I said, no cursing."

Only, the boy was looking up at him with that confused, what-did-you-just-say look. "I didn't say anything."

It must be the stench of ammonia… but he swore he heard someone.

"That was me, sir."

The doctor turned back and there, he found the source of the voice. He wasn't as tall as Ryuuken – but he definitely smiled more. Even as he muttered a low "Hello", Ryuuken noticed the distinct crowfeet at the edge of both eyes. For someone who cursed at every little thing (there was nothing serious that needed cursing in the gents) the guy must've led a really pleasant life at some point of his life to have those marks.

"I'm sorry, but I sort of, uh…" and he leaned in to Ryuuken's ear, whispered something before backing up. Ryuuken's face was now carrying a vague look of disgust.

"What is it, Dad?"

So Ryuuken leaned down to whisper what the guy had told him. He backed up and _Uryuu's_ face was now carrying a vague look of disgust. And awe.

"Whoa…" the boy cooed. He then looked at the guy over his father's legs and said jovially, "Mister, how 'bout you take my turn?"

"Eh?" both Dad and guy exclaimed. If the rest of the crowd wasn't preoccupied with their desperation, that resounding "Eh?" would've turned heads.

"You don't want to?"

"Uh…"

Ryuuken seized his son by the shoulder before offering a hand, gesturing the guy to step forward into _their _place. After countless mentions of "thank you" and bows, he reached the pot.

He was going to shake hands with Ryuuken before parting ways – to which Ryuuken politely declined.

"Ooh… safe…" Uryuu sighed.

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Advice #9: Once in a while, invite the person on line behind you to go ahead of you.


End file.
